Happy Birthday
by FakeDoll
Summary: Severus is getting mysterious, woollen presents. Written in January for Snape's birthday.


There was nothing like the love of family and friends on that special day. Most people celebrated the day they were born as if it were something amazing. Severus never really saw it that way, so therefore ignored January the ninth, pretending such a date didn't exist.

The staff knew to not mention it, after the hostile reaction they got the first year he'd been working at Hogwarts, which involved a surprise party and some foul words from the Potions Master.

So when Severus received a present, his first whilst working at Hogwarts, he was puzzled. Angry and puzzled. It had been left anonymously on the desk nearest the door in his classroom. Someone must've slipped it in whilst he had his back turned. After surveying it and prodding it with his wand, he evaluated that it was safe. Well safe enough to open, anyway. It was a small white box, with a green ribbon tied around its middle. He fiddled with the bow, trying to work out how to open it; it was tightly tied. He quickly lost his patience and with a whip of his wand, the ribbon fell to the table and the lid of the box gently flew off.

He'd been expecting it to be a small potion of some sort, a silly gag gift which if he'd for some reason had drank, would've lead to his death or at least something terminally embarrassing. But instead, he found himself carefully pulling out a long piece of knit-work. It was a scarf made from dark green wool and inexperienced hands. If he'd of been a friend of the Weasleys, he'd of thought they were the culprits of such an attack of material. But still, it had character and the holes almost seemed planned. The most interesting part of this present was what was pinned on one end of the scarf. It was a dead and dried up plant of some sort, magically manipulated into an "S", for perhaps "Severus", or "Snape" or indeed "Slytherin".

Severus was impressed. But there was no way in hell he was going to wear the thing. For one, it would not go with anything he owned, mainly because everything he owned was tailored to perfection and had no shabby holes in it. Secondly, it could be cursed. Any number of nasty things could happen to him if he was to wrap that around his neck; throttling came quickly to mind. He placed the scarf back into the box, displaying it like it had been when he'd opened it. Then with a wave of his wand, the box re-sealed itself, the ribbon's bow exactly as it had been before.

For the rest of the day he wondered about it. Who would give him a present, when they knew he absolutely hated birthdays? Who would hand make him a present? Certainly none of the faculty - he liked to believe they were slightly more talented at scarf-making then the creator of this one. That and he was pretty sure they were scared to death at the reaction this would cause. No, it wasn't a colleague. So then it had to be a student (house elves were ruled out because of their aversion to clothes and well... him). All through classes that day and week, he kept a watch on his student body, whether they showed any signs of bad knitting skills or hopeful glances to his neck, just in case he was feeling a bit cold. No one showed anything, other than fear. Outside of class, he blessed the cold weather and stalked people with scarves, trying to find awfully hand made ones. But nothing; everyone seemed to have impeccably made hats, gloves and scarves. The whole process became tedious and unrewarding, so eventually he gave up.

And then forgot about it. Until his next birthday, when he received another present. Packaged exactly the same. He quickly undid the bow with his wand, and found a pair of gloves made of the same wool. This time though, they came with a note:

"I spent almost a full year on these sir, I hope you like them. It took me forever to work out your hand size without getting a detention. I do hope they fit. Happy birthday!"

He wasn't sure what to think. The gloves seemed to be of better craftsmanship then the scarf; it was obvious the sender was improving. He was still wary though, as a curse was easily hidden in material, just waiting to attack a hand or a neck. So he did as he had done with the scarf, and put the box next to its companion in his wardrobe.

The year after was a complicated one. He'd been cornered by Malfoy, and was now tied to an impossible task. He could barely think of anything as trivial as dates, and was surprised to find the little green and white box waiting for him. This time he didn't stop to think and opened it immediately. A green hat. He thought as much, and he pulled it out for a better look, along with a note:

"Thank you for wearing your hair so flat to your head sir, this was easy to estimate. Keep warm!"

What the hell, he was going to die at some point anyway: Severus pulled the hat on his head. Nothing happened. No sudden burning sensation, no gasping for breath, no swollen limbs. Aware he must look like a total prat, he walked down the dungeon corridor back to his quarters (thankfully not bumping into anyone) and rooted for the other two woollen accessories from the bottom of his wardrobe. Using the bathroom mirror as a guide, he carefully pulled them on. They all fit perfectly, and he was still breathing. He dared to look at his reflection, and was greeted with shock. It wasn't because he looked utterly ridiculous (which he really, really did), but because there, written in pink lipstick, was the answer of who had given his presents...

"I hope to see you in the grounds wearing the full set, Professor! Happy birthday, Luna L."


End file.
